“Shit. According to her medical records, she is supposed to be admitted as an inpatient at a psychiatric hospital in Hopeton.”
Brandon eyes me apprehensively, but he doesn’t utter a sound as I print out the extensive collection of medical records on Megan and bolt toward Alex’s office.
“Come in,” Alex instructs, his mood still surly.
When he notices me approaching his desk, he rolls his eyes. Snubbing his imprudent response, I hand him Megan’s medical information. His eyes lift to mine and narrow before he snatches the documents out of my firm grasp.
“Who is Megan Shroud?”
My brows tack as my gaze turns to seek Brandon, who is sitting on my desk, eyeballing the exchange between Alex and me. He just informed me he advised Alex of Megan this weekend, didn’t he? Shrugging, I turn my gaze back to Alex.
“She has been photographed at Isaac’s club on numerous occasions the past several months.”
Alex’s stern blue eyes meet mine. “Hundreds of women are photographed at his clubs every day.”
“But she was there day and night, every day for the past several weeks.” I try not to let my genuine concern for Isaac be heard in my voice. “She has also been in and out of psychiatric hospitals her entire life.”
“Then he should’ve been more cautious about who he takes to bed.”
“Who said he slept with her?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Alex glares at me. The expression on his face reveals he thinks I’m an imbecile.
When I remain quiet, he continues, “Would you like me to supply you with the extensive list of women Isaac Holt has slept with?”
“No.” The swirling of my stomach amplifies so much I feel queasy.They have a list?
“Then drop it,” Alex instructs. “We’re here to investigate Isaac, not every floozy he’s slept with.”
Grimacing, I nod, although my gut is telling me not to drop this. With reluctance, I head for my desk. Brandon doesn’t need to ask how it went. The distressed look on my face tells the whole story.
“Maybe try again in a few days when his brooding mood improves,” Brandon suggests.
“He’s never in a good mood.” I flop into my chair.
Brandon chuckles at my statement before his eyes lift to mine. “How was your weekend away?”
A smile tugs my lips higher. “It was good.”Even with the whole Col Petretti and whiplash issues that plagued my weekend, I still thoroughly enjoyed my time away.
“How was your weekend?” I ask.
“Quiet.”
I arch my brow. Even though my day is full of the most boring, tedious tasks you could imagine, Alex's team is always a bustling hive of activity, so I find it surprising Brandon had a quiet weekend.
“The surveillance team lost track of Isaac for three days. No one knew where he was,” he tells me.
My eyes to snap to his.
“That’s why Alex is in such a pissy mood. Isaac only resurfaced again last night.”
Brandon hands me the blue manila folder he has been grasping the past twenty minutes. A lump lodges in my throat when I scan through the surveillance photos. Isaac, as always, looks impeccable in a black three-piece tailored suit and his vibrant red tie matches the dress of the slender blonde intimately attached to his side.
“I don’t know how the surveillance team keeps losing him, but. . .”
He knows we’re tailing him.
“How do you know that?” Brandon asks, making me realize I said my last statement out loud.
